Redemption

Chapter 5

Striding into her room, she closed the door. Peeling out of her bloodied leathers, she rushed to her bath, filling it until it was brimming with soapy bubbles, steam rising. Sliding in, she tilted her head and sighed in contentment. With the different magical beings all living in one place, it brought new ideas and advancement. Being an assassin of her stature, she had access to most of them. Her thoughts strayed to what she had experienced in Gehenna; shaking her head, she tried to rid herself of the sounds of her family and friend. She stayed there until her fingers pruned. Stepping out, she dried herself and tucked herself into bed. As soon as her head hit the pillow, she remembered nothing else.

Sunlight bled through her windows as her ears picked up the bustle of the streets below. No matter how isolated her apartment was from the bust streets of Antares, her ears would still pick up the noise. Stretching, she climbed out of the cold floor, shocking her system. Splashing her face with water, she went to get dressed. Her usual attire of dark, tight leather, a mask that could be pulled up to obscure her face and a dark hooded cloak. She slid her knives and swords in the familiar heavy feel of her blade, reassuring her as she thought of the day ahead. Catching her reflection in the mirror, she studied herself. She looked normal, with the same eyes, one amber, the other a deep brown, the same tan skin, the same leathers and weapons that decorated her body. It all looked so typical; she could have fooled herself that she never returned from the dead and experienced Gehenna. The sharpening of metal could be heard through her doors. Acrux.

"That bastard will be the death of me," she thought, exasperated.

Walking out, Azalea glanced at Acrux. Annoyed by another presence in her house, and how even after travelling from Inferis and spending the night, he still looked perfect, and like the warrior he most likely is.

"Why do all mortals feel the need to sleep for hours on end," he snipped.

"Not everyone here is an immortal being," she gestured at him.

Crossing the room to the door, she swung it open and cleaned down the stairs as she waited for Acrux to follow her. Looking around, she noticed him already waiting for her. She started, surprised.

"How were you so quick?"

"We all have our talents," he replied smoothly, gesturing for her to lead the way.

They walked, silence filling the air between them. They arrived at the edge of the market, a noisy, colourful bustle of carts and stands. People were bargaining all over the place. Walking through, Azalea whiffed the smell of freshly baked bread wafting to her from a neighbouring stall. Swiping, loaf, she deposited a few coppers, keeping an ear out for any helpful chatter; she sensed stares; she tensed, thinking it was of her, soon realizing of Acrux. She snorted, Antares was home to many people and creatures, yet Acrux stood out, his tattoo that climbed up to the side of his face, and the strange sword did stand out from the usual, as he parted on ignoring the stares as he towered over the crowd.

Azalea admired various weapons, stopping at numerous stalls and purchasing a pearl-studded knife. She could sense Acrux's annoyance as he followed her.

"Do you have a plan, or are you going to keep shopping?" he asked, irritated.

Ignoring him, Azalea kept walking, pulling her hood to better hide her face.

"Women," he muttered.

Casting an annoyed glance back, Azalea came to a stop. A ratty building with a boar's head greeted her. Drunk laughter grew as she opened the door. The scrapping of stools and slamming down of sloshing beer were evident in every corner of the room. Waving her away around drunk men, she plopped down on a seat, dragging her finger across the table; she lifted it up, her tan skin marred with grime. She sniffed, disgusted.

"You went from killing to day drinking. I should be surprised, but you strike me as someone who has no care in the world and grew up with everything handed to her."

Azalea's body tightened, "Don't talk about things you know nothing about."

"I'm assuming we are here for a reason then; no one would willingly come here," Acrux said, disdain on his face as he examined the dingy interior.

"Shut up and drink," Azalea ordered.

Sipping on the beer, she grimaced at the sour taste and quickly put it down. Straining her ear through the laughter and singing, she focused on the whispers.

".....dead body was gone."

Azalea shifted closer, ensuring she went unnoticed; she noted Acrux doing the same thing, leaning forward as he focused on the conversation.

"At the graveyard.'

"My son's friend of a friend of neighbours witnessed it. He said a body came along from a coffin."

"Impossible; he must have been out of his mind. Anyways, did you hear about the two lords that died? I guess all that money wasn't enough to haggle their way through death. Thank Iram for putting them in their place."

Azalea tuned them out once they switched topics. Meeting Acrux's eyes, she raised her eyebrows. Azrux glared back. Scowling, she paid her bill and walked out, questions running through her mind.

"Are you incapable of any expression other than annoyance, anger and nothing?" she asked, genuinely curious.

Acrux looked at her with the side of his eye and asked, "How many graveyards are here?"

"Two, one for the regular peasants like us and the other for the lords and the rich, apparently social classes don't stop even at death," she said dryly.

"We will check both," Acrux stated.

Obviously, Azalea thought, annoyed.

Fingering her knife, Azalea led the way, praying she found the answers in the empty graves.